The Game
by UnderOath
Summary: (AU) A couple of years of successful heroics has promoted the Teen Titans to the favored status as Jump City's most elite protectors... until the introduction of a dangerously psychotic man who goes by the name of Slade Wilson. (Chapter 3: Family Affair)
1. Who I Am

Author's Note: Hum... first fic posted up... ever.

Teen Titans are property of DC Comics and Cartoon Network.

THE GAME  
(An Alternate Universe Story)

Chapter 1: Who I Am

Richard Grayson took in a deep breath and smiled, another clear day in Jump City greeting him with its characteristically sunny rays beginning to warm his face. The exhalation of the breath brought around a more serious demeanor, but he kept the smile on his face as he reached into his bright-yellow utility belt and extracted an eyemask. Pressing the heat-activated adhesive onto his face, Robin emerged to greet the city he protected with the help of his team.

Upon reentering the T-shaped structure that he called home, he was greeted with a comfortably familiar sight. It was too early for the daily breakfast squabble between the two other guys who lived in the tower, and Robin contented himself with a quiet cup of coffee and the chance to collect his nerves. His comfortable silence was equally shared with another member of the elite crime-fighting team, and Robin quietly raised his mug to a cloaked head from the couch.

"Morning, Raven," Robin cheerfully called, his coffee mug settling on the countertop with a resonating _chink_.

"Good morning, Robin," Raven replied coolly, her eyes never leaving the ponderous book on her lap. Robin noticed that it was the same book that she often left on the coffee table late at night, whenever she felt that she couldn't sleep. He supposed that last night was one of those nights.

Several minutes of continued silence later, Robin found himself growing somewhat impatient. He idly tapped on the kitchen countertop, his fingers pounding out a random rhythm as he stared at the windows to the Jump City harbor. The city spread before his eyes, street lights dimming in the pinkish skies of dawn. The finished mug of coffee lay forgotten, the residual coffee drops turning bitterly cold.

"… Is there something on your mind, Robin?" Raven questioned finally, blue eyes peering over the book.

"Sometimes… do you think that maybe this is all just a game?" Robin asked suddenly.

Raven's left eyebrow rose at that nonchalant question. It was unlike Robin to just throw out a question and not have it get answered to his satisfaction. She mulled over the question, debating on whether or not to continue on with this interesting response to her prompt. She decided to take the bait this time.

"What would make you think that?" she asked in response.

Robin paused for only a moment. "It's just… I guess you can say that I'm bored… that's all."

Raven closed her book and pulled her hood down, revealing her orchid-colored hair and impressively sapphire-blue eyes. She turned and faced Robin, who in turn locked eyes with her.

"Aren't we supposed to be glad that we don't have to risk our lives fighting off crime everyday?" Raven questioned emotionlessly.

Robin partially wrung his hands together in search of a viable answer. He licked his suddenly dry lips, feeling the slightly-chapped skin underneath his flicking tongue. Raven's gaze never left Robin's masked eyes, and soon Robin exhaled a breath quite forcibly, as if expecting that breath to take away some of the frustrations that he was feeling at the moment. When nothing of the sort happened, he relented.

"I'm not so sure how to describe it," Robin confessed finally. At Raven's perplexed expression, Robin hastily added, "It's not that I don't know what it is, just I'm not sure how to put it to words. It's… a feeling."

"A feeling…" Raven repeated, her lips pursed as she let the sound of her own voice reverberate in her mind. She took in a deep breath, sighed, and turned her gaze to a spot on the kitchen counter. "A feeling that… you've run out of criminals to capture and throw in jail, isn't it?"

Robin nodded despite his ingrained response to say something to the contrary. He gritted his teeth at his own failure of hiding his true thoughts, but it was too late to take back what he had done. Raven didn't need to observe his actions to continue, and she stretched her back a little before going on.

"You are somewhat unique in that aspect," Raven noted, her voice suddenly very far away. "Going into the chase releases a sort of feral nature within you. It is something different from righteous anger, unstable DNA, and just an opportunity to kick ass and take names. It's like you're readying yourself to go…"

"Hunting," Robin finished in a hollow tone. At Raven's hesitant nod, he continued, "And the criminals are merely prey for us to take down. It becomes a game, a game where the stakes are high but the rewards are higher. It's… a game where losing means forfeiting everything."

"And you relish it, don't you," Raven pressed, although her voice was fairly calm in comparison to the mesmerizing emotion showing in her eyes. "You relish the hunt, but you especially relish the capture, that which you associate the 'kill' with. It's quite possibly the one of the few things that has followed you out of the red skies of Gotham besides that mask: the love of the hunt, whether for justice or just to clean the streets."

Robin slumped over on a kitchen stool, absently rubbing his forehead with gloved fingertips. Raven had left her perch on the couch and was now hovering over the kitchen area, face set in a somewhat plaintive expression. She touched down on the carpet bordering the vinyl floors of the kitchen unit, her movements silent as she summoned a dark blue mug from one of the cabinets. Various appliances responded under a glow of black energy as she busied herself with making a cup of herbal tea, and still Robin remained silent.

"… How… how do you know all of that," Robin uttered, more as a statement than a question.

Raven looked up from her busywork and carefully handled the mug of tea in her hands. Gently blowing over the dark brown liquid, she glanced through the cloud of steam for a few seconds. Robin sensed something odd about her brief lapse of silence, for Raven would usually either answer in a straightforward manner or evade the topic of conversation altogether. However, Raven set her undisturbed mug of tea on the countertop.

"You and I both share that same feeling," Raven muttered finally. Her eyes narrowed as she continued in an even quieter tone. "Although… I would hesitate to call your feeling bloodlust. It's more… zealous… than anything else."

Robin made no mention that he heard the passing statement. Instead, he shifted his fingers to his right temple, resting them there as he propped his elbow up on the kitchen table. Keeping his head in that precarious balance, he heaved out a small sigh. Raven blew at her tea once more and took in an experimental sip before braving the still-hot liquid for a more satisfying gulp. Robin found himself studying the contents of the cabinet that Raven had left open, but when Raven turned to return to her book and thus end the awkward conversation, his chair swiveled and he jumped off, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

"Can I… ask you a question?" he asked, his gaze never leaving the carpet in front of him.

"I don't see why not," Raven replied with her eyes closed. She drank more of the tea, savoring the bittersweet aftertaste.

"If you feel the same towards fighting crime, then why aren't you… bored?"

Raven opened her eyes, brilliant sapphire irises contrasting with the pale skin of her face and dark hair. She could pass as a monochromatic figure, which Robin figured wasn't very healthy of anyone, but he had decided long ago to not question Raven about anything. This, however, this was something that he deemed rather urgent, and he was willing to simply stand there for as long as he could to get even a sliver of an answer that Raven could hand out. This time, Raven decided to humor fate and she turned around, facing Robin's caped back.

"You should know that answer; you instill the mindset into us everyday," Raven replied simply. "Criminals, no matter how sadistic or cruel or just plain idiotic they are, they're still people… or at least sentient beings. And sentient beings can all feel one common emotion, whether they are heroes or villains."

Robin snorted in spite of himself, but there was a recurring image of potential similarities between Plasmus, Cinderblock, Mad Mod, Killer Moth, Control Freak, the HIVE teens, and countless other villains that would make Batman laugh. He was quite sure that there were little to no similarities, let alone a common emotion that they would even admit to sharing. If it was one thing that he was slightly thankful for, it was the fact that these enemies of the city never deemed it profitable to work together for one heist.

"And what sort of emotion would that be?" Robin asked. "What exactly do we have in common with the criminals we fight and lock up everyday?"

Raven wasted no time. Drawing her hood over her head and hiding her facial features from the world, she centered her gaze straight at Robin. The Boy Wonder suddenly had the sensation that the sorceress was looking at him, not _through_ him as she usually did.

"We all are capable of feeling fear."

With that, Raven deemed the conversation was over, and teleported out of the room before Robin could come up with a witty argument to convince her otherwise. Robin's hand was even lifted in a motion to halt the sorceress, but he thought better of his late action and let his hand fall limply to his side, fingers slightly curling to form a semi-fist.

Clouds started bordering the happy sun of Jump City.

But Robin was given little time to brood over his newfound source of consternation when the main doors opened with a snappy slide. His back to the door, he forced himself to push down his thoughts to the back of his mind. Heavy footsteps, followed by lighter ones and a small whooshing noise of someone in flight, caused him to turn around with a smile on his face.

"Happy morning, friend Robin!" Starfire chirped, her enthusiasm lighting up the room more than any source of natural sunlight.

"Yeah, morning," Cyborg yawned out, but he quickly snapped out of his standby-mode when he spotted Beast Boy zooming towards the kitchen unit, chef's hat already on his head at a jaunty angle.

"Yeah, yeah, morning and all… Now who's ready for some tofu!" Beast Boy cackled, brandishing a frying pan and packages of tofu.

"Watch it you little grass stain!" Cyborg yelled, launching himself over the counter and landing with a heavy _thump_ beside the rather sprightly green teen. "We're gonna have bacon and eggs this morning! It's my morning to cook!"

"Dude! How am I supposed to eat what you're trying to cook? Besides, everyone over here eats the tofu I cook!"

Already Robin was calculating the extent of the damage the two were causing as pots and pans catapulted out of the various cupboard doors. Dimly he remembered how neatly organized everything was before they had stormed down to continue their food war, and dimly he recalled the quiet that he had experienced with such relish only a few moments before.

"It's probably 'cause you burned out our taste buds a long time ago trying to stuff us with that white crap! Now move over, I know I put that bacon somewhere…"

Cyborg hastily shoved a green octopus out of the way as he rummaged through the refrigerator, trying to keep the tentacles at bay as he emerged with his triumph. Beast Boy immediately morphed into a spider monkey and latched onto the hulking giant's shoulders, causing quite a screeching racket. Cyborg in turn blindly reached out and grabbed a pan handle in retaliation.

"Please, friends, perhaps I may pursue the preparation of the breaking of fasts today?" Starfire offered with her hands clasped together.

Beast Boy, perched on Cyborg's massive shoulders, stopped tugging at his friend's ears as Cyborg stopped the random pan in his grasp in mid-swing. The duo looked at Robin plaintively, who in turn sighed and stretched on a watery smile as he faced Starfire.

"Um… maybe during lunch?" he asked.

"Glorious! I shall not disappoint!" Starfire squealed, and she flew away at top speed to entertain herself for a few more hours.

With that taken care of, Cyborg and Beast Boy continued on with their breakfast debacle while Robin sat down on the couch, his head in his hands and his mind in deep thought.

"_We are all capable of feeling fear."_

Robin blinked from under his mask, the wheels in his mind working on overtime. Of course he understood her statement; criminals felt enough fear whenever they saw the super-powered group of teens converging on their getaway paths. But why had Raven put so much emphasis on that statement alone? Why was she opening up so much to him now, on only that concept alone?

"… I need some time alone," he muttered to no one in particular.

He made to leave to the training room, but he stopped when he spotted Raven's book. Only, there was a newspaper neatly folded on top of the book. He picked up the newspaper, recalling that he had not picked up the newspaper from the mailbox this morning at all. He folded it over, his eyes scanning the headline article.

_MASKED TERRORIST NOW IN JUMP CITY?_

His curiosity was suitably piqued. Thumbing through the various articles pertaining to the new story at hand, he found himself walking down the stairs and to the residential halls of the Titans Tower. Several shoddy pictures of a masked man instantly caught his attention, as did the insignia that the masked man had emblazoned on his earlier crime scenes, followed by a monosyllabic name.

"Slade…"

Robin found the gears in his head moving in tune to the wheels which were already zooming around in circles.

"… Who is Slade?"

Although he failed to notice, he passed directly by Raven's room as he muttered the question, whereupon the dark girl quietly exited her room. Her expression unreadable, she heaved a small sigh laced with a surprising trace of guilt.

"Slade… is no ordinary criminal."

Raven decided that today would be a good time to make sure she had sufficient meditation.


	2. Give It Up

Author's Note: Ach... seems like forever since I last updated! Well, here is the next chapter.

Teen Titans are property of DC Comics and Cartoon Network

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Chapter 2: Give It Up

Several days passed, but try as Robin might, he could not get Raven to continue their early morning conversation.

In a fit of desperation he demanded a mandatory training session down at the gym, where the collected team was assembled. Cyborg was exercising on his heavy lifting apparatus, and Beast Boy was sprinting as a cheetah on his specialized running machine. Starfire flew around the massive gym, leaving an incandescent green trail as she pummeled through training robots with surges of green starbolts. Robin grunted as he settled his weight back on the bench press and took in deep, calming breaths as sweat dripped from his forehead. Raven meditated in the distant corner of the gym, floating serenely above the floor and chanting under her breath.

"Ok, guys. Whose turn is it for training?" Robin asked in a conversational tone as he rubbed his neck with a towel.

"Mine! Mine!" Beast Boy yelled as he morphed out of his cheetah form. Unfortunately, he did not take into regard the treadmill under his feet and suddenly he crashed into the wall behind the rapidly-whirring machine. Cyborg sniggered, but lumbered over to give the green elf a hand.

"Actually… I believe that it is Raven's turn to spar with you," Starfire spoke, green eyes traveling to the cloaked figure at the end of the room.

Robin raised an eyebrow, gently wrapping cloth strips around his hands and wrists. The fighting gi that he had kept from his recent training session was now a little wrinkled and damp from the perspiration, but he was still alert. For some reason he anticipated this sparring session. It wasn't to show off his abilities and lecture the group on the importance of fighting without powers, but rather the fact that perhaps Raven was the only one who could give him a run for his money in pure, hand-to-hand combat.

"Raven?" Robin questioned, throwing his towel off to one corner of the fighting ring that was constructed onto the floor of the gym. His bare toes pressed down on the spongy material of the bright blue mats underneath his feet.

Raven looked up from her meditation, then sighed and drifted over, a hand snaking out of her cloak to undo the clasp. She had come prepared for the sparring session, Robin noticed in surprise. Raven let the dark blue fabric of her cloak pool onto the floor beside her as she padded barefoot onto the mats, her customary leotard replaced by a pair of track pants and a white t-shirt. Robin toed the mat experimentally, then stood straight and gave Raven a small nod. Raven returned the stiff bow with a nod of her own, then took in a deep breath and relaxed.

Silence reigned in the training room and Robin relished it as he quietly crouched into a fighting pose, the starched gi snapping at his refined movements. Raven was already in a cautious pose, both hands up and loose. Robin knew that Raven's martial arts expertise was founded in predominately defensive arts, so he settled with a quicker technique.

"What're you guys waiting for? Let's get this match started!" Beast Boy yelled, pumping up a fist as he clambered back up onto his running machine.

His call carried Robin's jump-spinning hook kick into a greater momentum, but Raven easily blocked the blurred kick and countered by ducking and executing a spinning kick the second Robin hit the ground. Robin landed and immediately performed a back-handspring, narrowly avoiding Raven's leg in the process. He landed once more and immediately ran back into the fight, his punches and kicks being deftly blocked, avoided, or even gently pushed away by Raven's careful movements. Robin reared back, changing tactics and fighting styles at the same time. Swaying a little in time to a rhythm that only he could hear, Robin dove back into the fray with a variety of spinning kicks and punches. Raven felt a fist fly up to her jaw and she flipped back, her flexible joints allowing her to turn that into a back-flip. She continued to flip several times, avoiding a string of devastating spinning kicks that would have otherwise taken her head clean off her shoulders.

Starfire, Cyborg, and Beast Boy momentarily paused in their own exercises to gaze upon the rare spectacle of a not-so-one-sided fight between the Boy Wonder and seemingly frail sorceress. Even after a few minutes of continuous fighting, neither was close to winning. Robin was bowled over by a heavy roundhouse kick to the stomach, and Raven felt herself teeter a little bit from a punch to the gut. Absently flicking the corner of her lips with a thumb, she forced her knees to buckle as she dropped under a surprisingly slow kick and shot right back up, her right palm connecting with Robin's chin. Stumbling back a few steps, Robin recovered, his teeth grit and eyemask narrowed. Raven mentally cursed at herself when she saw the rather angered state the Boy Wonder was reduced to, but she couldn't end the training session now. Crimson red flickered in her eyes as she then did the unexpected.

She rushed at him.

Robin frowned and held his ground, executing a kick to shove her back.

Raven side stepped to avoid the blow and countered with a spinning hook kick.

Robin caught her leg, grasped her ankle, and pulled her leg down, attempting an uppercut on Raven's unbalanced figure.

Raven grunted and swung herself out of the way, working on Robin's grip on her leg to keep her moderately balanced as she swung around his fist.

Using that momentum, she then launched her other foot in the air, the instep connecting to Robin's ear.

The heavy blow almost made Robin drop down for the count, but he struggled to his feet in three seconds and wearily brought his arms up to launch a melee of punches.

Raven blocked every one of them, finally seeing an opening. Robin had grabbed one of her blocking arms, but she used Robin's pull as a spring board to flip around him and avoid a blow to the chest.

She landed and turned sharply, breaking his hold on her and causing him to turn as well. A well-placed palm to the sternum had him shocked, but only for a moment. Suddenly he grabbed the hand, twisted her wrist, and flipped her to the ground, her arm bent at a slightly awkward angle behind her as he straddled her stomach. His breaths whistling through gritted teeth, he reared his arm back for a punch to the sternum.

Something glistened in Raven's eyes, something so foreign and unreal that Robin himself blinked, his arm still reared back. But something even more unreal took hold of his brain for a crucial second, something primal that he had always been warned to never accept when under duress. But it took hold of him, warping those blue eyes that stared at him to make him believe that she was taunting him, goading him on. Robin let out a loose growl.

"Rrrrgh!"

"Robin, don't!" Cyborg barked suddenly.

Robin's punch nearly blew a crater through the blue mats. Cyborg and Beast Boy hurried over to see the extent of the damage, while Starfire gently picked up Raven's cloak and fingered the material, a slightly panicked expression on her face. But the familiar sight of a black raven appearing through the gym floor alleviated her stress as a somewhat winded Raven emerged from her soul self. Her breaths coming out in awkward pants, she took her cloak from Starfire's outstretched hands and threw it around herself, hoping to disappear from within the liquid blue fabric.

Robin panted, his anger pooling through his arm and onto the mats in a crimson stream, the blood causing him to blink. It was only then that he felt the cold titanium arms lift him to his feet and force him to turn around, forcing him to face an almost livid blue eye, its cybernetic twin emotionless as always.

"Dude… I know that we've gotta be prepared… but…"

Beast Boy's voice faltered as the corny joke that usually ensued from his lips remained under covers.

"This isn't Gotham, Robin," Cyborg muttered suddenly. His lips were set in a firm line as he still held on to his leader. "It's been two years already, can't you see?"

Something terrible seized him, but Robin swallowed the lump at his throat and gently pushed Cyborg's hands away. He walked past the silent group, then stopped and turned his head slightly.

"…. I'll be back. If the alarm calls, then I'll get there."

"But…."

"I said I'll be back," Robin repeated firmly, beating down Starfire's plaintive rebuttal. Before anything more could be said, he walked out of the training room… alone.

"What's with him?" Beast Boy scoffed, gently reaching out a hand to the damaged mat. He let his fingers linger at the exposed sponge as his normally bright green eyes darkened to a more serious hue.

Cyborg sighed and rubbed his titanium scalp as if prompting his mechanical circuits to compute something for him. But he knew that no amount of computation could even begin to unravel the mystery that was the Titans' leader. Whatever morsel of information he found always resulted in being only a minor ingredient to a stew of endless conclusions, so in the end he simply gave up and let natural observation be his tool in predicting the Boy Wonder's moves. All that observation was collectively washed down the drain today, though, and now Cyborg found himself in a rising predicament. He turned around.

"Are you…" he blinked. He looked down at Beast Boy, who was still crouched over the damage. "Where's Raven?"

"Huh? Oh… I'm guessing the roof," Beast Boy replied, his eyes still trained on the mat. "Starfire probably followed her, so it's all good."

"Why do you keep staring at that mat?" Cyborg asked curiously.

Something strange glittered in the changeling's eyes, and Cyborg found himself even more miffed at the situation when Beast Boy suddenly stood up, his lips set in a firm line. Suddenly the prankster seemed more mature, more serious, even a little concerned.

"It's not what I'm looking at, Cy," Beast Boy explained in a quiet voice. His gaze lingered on the mat once more before he looked up at his friend. "It's what I smell from all of this."

At Cyborg's raised eyebrow, he continued, giving a half-hearted wave in the direction of the damaged mat. "I smell fear, Cyborg. Not just shock, but pure fear. Something so… solid, that it's still there."

Looking down, Cyborg followed Beast Boy's hand as the changeling mapped out a general area for his observation. Cyborg's eyes dimmed as he quietly recalled Robin's punch. A computer-generated video file played in his cybernetic eye, but he didn't need that to remember the almost savage nature that Robin acted with near the end of the training session. With a heavy sigh, Cyborg crossed his arms across his metallic chest.

"Well… I'd be scared too if Robin suddenly decided to black my eyes out," Cyborg muttered. "One kick of his could knock down Cinderblock... even if it looked physically impossible, so his fists at close range wouldn't be so pretty either. Probably felt some heavy amount of rage to do that much damage."

"That's the funny thing though," Beast Boy replied, although he did not smile. "He was scared too. If Raven was that scared something would've exploded… heck, maybe Robin would've. But it's…. I dunno."

"Uh huh. Well, with that said, it's your turn to clean that mess," Cyborg noted. Beast Boy blanched.

"What? B-But I just cleaned last week!"

"Your name's on the list, BB."

"…. Gosh, fine. I'll go clean it up. But only if you do the dishes and allow me to cook my tofu tonight!"

"As if that's ever gonna happen…"

"HEY!"

"Alright, alright! Jeez. Go start cleaning."

At Cyborg's statement, Beast Boy frowned but went over to the broom closet in the training room to retrieve a mop and bucket. Cyborg whistled a tune as he left the massive training hall, and soon Beast Boy was alone with a soapy bucket and a decidedly limp mop. With an apprehensive sigh he grabbed a replacement mat and took apart the damaged piece, but not before shuddering at the sudden influx of information from his heightened senses. He finished his cleaning an hour earlier than expected.

Evening had fallen into the city by the time Starfire ventured up to the roof. Contrary to Beast Boy's speculation, she had only hovered close to the roof and watched Raven from afar. Of course she was concerned for her friend, but years of continued restraint had shown her that Raven tended to deal with emotional issues better by herself. Only when Raven showed signs of stirring out of her meditation was when Starfire floated out from the stairwell.

Raven had already showered and changed back into her crime-fighting uniform, something that Starfire was mildly sorry to see. She had only seen Raven in casual clothes for a select few occasions, but she had decided long ago that Raven looked better with a varied wardrobe.

"Were you waiting the whole time?" Raven asked quietly.

Slightly taken aback, Starfire fumbled around for an answer, but Raven had turned in time for her to execute a feeble nod instead. Something twitched in the corners of Raven's mouth, but Starfire didn't dare to hope that it was a smile.

"While I am somewhat… miffed about why you did so… thank you."

Starfire breathed an almost inaudible sigh of relief as Raven's words registered to her. She was beginning to think that her waiting would have produced somewhat disagreeable results, but Raven had been somewhat receptive as of late. With that in mind, Starfire intended to use the slight influx of emotion to maybe induce happy thoughts into the morose sorceress.

"I am… somewhat concerned over your well-being," Starfire replied candidly. "Friend Robin's blow was most excruciating indeed to the training mat, but it would have been even worse if it had hit its…." she gulped. "… intended target."

Raven remained stoically silent at that statement, and Starfire found herself fidgeting. A cold breeze filtered down to the Tower roof and Starfire shivered, goose bumps forming from the physical and mental chill. Raven shrugged, and stood up, brushing away imaginary clumps of dust.

"It's not what I had expected," Raven admitted finally. "But I can't blame him."

Something in her voice alerted Starfire immediately, and she looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of something foreign glinting in Raven's eyes before they clouded over to their normal dulled state. She continued to stare, wondering if she was simply seeing things as she gazed into the midnight-blue eyes. Raven noticed her stare, and w looked away, facing the chilly night skies.

"Raven… it is alright to admit that you were frightened by Robin's actions," Starfire murmured. She looked away to the cement below her, hugging herself for both warmth and some sense of self-comfort. She looked up at Raven once more, a surge of something she would associate with either bravery or foolishness prompting her to her next statement. "I was… very frightened for you."

Raven's eyes widened an imperceptible distance, but she did nothing to reply. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on the stars that spread out their heavenly map before the two, weathering two more gusts of cold air in the process. Starfire took the silence as a somewhat mixed blessing.

"… I'm going to go inside," Raven announced, but when Starfire did not follow, she turned and watched the alien shudder at a recent blast of cold air.

"I shall be staying up on this rooftop for a few moments," Starfire replied with a small smile. "Venus is said to be particularly bright tonight."

Raven said nothing, but unclasped her cloak and laid the cloth around Starfire's shivering shoulders. She phased through the roof and presumably down to her room, leaving the Tamaranean up at the roof with a dark blue cloak that was somewhat short on her frame. But the warmth that lingered in the fabric stopped her shivering altogether, and she wrapped herself in the cloak, jumbled thoughts multiplying almost until they reached the amount of stars in the skies.


	3. Signals Over The Air

_Author's Note: _

_First off, thank you for the comments. I'm not entirely sure where I'll be going with this story, so any fresh ideas are welcome. _

_Well! I've updated quicker than I expected. I haven't really read the earlier comics (Just some random researching here and there), but I've always been fascinated by the different story arcs that have occurred with the New Teen Titans, especially the introduction of Slade's family and how they've been a part of the Teen Titans since practically the first few issues. I admit that writing this particular character was such a chore, but I hope I did his character some justice, or at least made him kinda cool by today's standards._

_Slade... is just a total badass. Let's see if this holds true in this story._

**Disclaimer: Teen Titans is copyrighted by DC Comics and Cartoon Network.**

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**Chapter 3: Signals Over The Air**

The Wayne Corporation held an impressive array of technological facilities on and around the general vicinity of Jump City. In fact, it could safely be said that Jump City was a sister city to Gotham, a sort of extremely younger sister who was still stumbling in the ways of a toddler. But Jump City was getting there, and now it seemed that there was no other direction to go but up.

Cheery blue skies and a wonderfully natural harbor contrasted greatly with the blood-red skies and sewage that festered in the lower levels of Gotham, so it was no wonder that most of the white-collar workers of the Wayne Corporation proposed to pack up and branch their business into Jump City. The standard of living was much higher due to the pleasantness and tranquility of the surroundings. The crime rate was also startlingly low, and the citizens of the city were quite thankful for their rather nonchalant lives.

However, that didn't mean that the city was closed off from prospective super-villains, or the contracts that shifting mercenaries may take up on a whim. Sometimes the escapades of their teenage heroes would only blanket citizens further into a comfortable bed of false security. The solitude and emptiness of night cloaked the city in a dazed stupor, rendering its policemen and watchful citizens immune to the rather potent amount of danger that loomed above them at this very moment.

The gothic-styled cathedral that stood almost in the center of the sprawling city served as a temporary perch for a young Caucasian male, roughly around nineteen years of age. He was dressed in full mercenary garb, looking almost like a superhero of old lore in his light-blue-on-dark-blue outfit. A yellow utility belt, seemingly a universal symbol of versatility in both heroes and villains alike, held various gadgets and trinkets to get him around the city mostly unseen, but the most astonishing object he had in his arsenal was a rather long sword strapped to his back, the sheath rubbing against the Kevlar-weave of his costume.

He crouched further, a light-blue mask in his gloved hands as he peered down at the ambling public below. Weight evenly placed on the toes of his feet, he balanced himself on his heels as he gazed down. Blue eyes narrowed as a particularly strong gust of wind rushed to the back of his head, pushing his spiked-forward blond hair even more forward. It provided a minor annoyance, and as soon as the wind stopped blowing he impatiently ran a hand through his hair.

Grant Wilson frowned, shifted a little in his position, and continued to wait, his lips set in an irritated scowl.

He had been perched up at the cathedral roof for roughly two hours, hardly moving from his spot as he gazed at one particular intersection for the past thirty minutes. Most people, even if they were mercenaries who were being offered a sizeable chunk of money, would have quit on the strenuous and freezing work, but Grant wasn't like most people. He wasn't even in it for the money now, strangely enough.

The nights of staying up late, watching for suspicious movement and simply biding time had all started roughly two years ago, around the same time that the Titans had assembled and Grant found himself finishing military school early. Since he found he had an apartment in Jump City waiting for him, Grant had eagerly settled into life as a mercenary for hire, a private investigator for those who were still suspicious of the police. His luck at making it big at only the age of seventeen was horribly dashed out in favor of letting the proverbial crap hit the fan, however.

It was only now that Jump City was even aware of the destructive tendencies of the almost paranormal man named Slade, but Grant had predicted much earlier that he would arrive to test his mettle with the strange band of teenagers that lived in the T-shaped tower. It was only a matter of time before Slade and the Titans would end up clashing in some poetically-derived battlefield, sustaining heavy losses on both ends.

Grant surmised that perhaps Slade would even grab a hold of some sort of apprentice, or do something else kooky in nature, which would only make Slade look even more dastardly to the public eye. As much as Grant would have loved to have granted Slade such an ample opportunity to go through with such a well-thought-out plan, he had better things to do. And he had to finish up his itinerary before Slade even considered showing himself to the teen superheroes.

Grant sat down on his perch, allowing his legs a much-needed rest. Propping his elbows up to his knees and holding his chin in his hands, Grant squinted out to the inky black skies, the cold weather scarcely affecting him. Images, plans, possible scenarios, and even a brief glimpse of cause-and-effect analysis ran through his mind as he simply sat and stared into nothing. He absently tapped his right temple with a gloved finger, as if willing his brain to run at a fuller capacity and allow even more scenarios to play in his head and perhaps pass the time more quickly. His wish came half-true, for he realized that yet another thirty minutes had passed when he finally shifted out of his thinking trance to take off his glove and peer down at his watch.

Grant frowned as he refitted his glove back onto his hand, appearing almost disgruntled at his current position. Almost two years of constant surveillance and the closest he got to the Titans so far was their nightly patrol rounds and morning outdoor training session times. All Slade had to do was show his face in public, blow up a bank or two in a nearby town, and then his face was plastered all over the daily newspaper as a sort of flashing red beacon. But Grant had to admit that Slade's timely appearance in the papers allowed him to get his work done more efficiently, for he had been beginning to fear the thought that he may have been found out by his intended prey.

In the end, Grant surmised that perhaps Slade didn't want to have anything to do with the Titans, other than maybe one or two of them. Perhaps Slade just wanted to get some mayhem accomplished in Jump City, just for kicks and not under a contract, like he was.

He blinked, a momentary lull entering his thoughts in the form of an interesting question.

Why had Slade turned down such an illustrious contract to get rid of the Teen Titans?

Grant had to admit that fortune seemed to smile on him once more when the HIVE had requested his services regarding the superheroes. Apparently their own students failed to produce an agreeable result, so in exchange for 5 million dollars Grant was secured an almost-easy job. An unnatural enhancement in his natural strength, agility, and stamina was bolstered further by his paranormal ability to use his brain to its full capacity. A gift from the HIVE in exchange for the completion of his job, his brain-power would be more than enough to subdue the still-rookie group of heroes. Grant felt himself smiling as he laid his plans out concerning the Teen Titans.

"Two weeks… At most," Grant murmured to himself, blue eyes sparkling with a sense of feral mischief, "Two weeks, then I'll be able to sit back and relax for once."

His thoughts turned sour at the thought of Slade, the masked terrorist.

"Hopefully… he won't pose that much interference," he concluded, holding an audience with the night air. "After all… the old man's growin' too old for this kind of work."

The roaring of a motorcycle engine in the dead of the night alerted Grant to immediately look down to his left, where his eyes caught the fleeting image of a crimson-red motorcycle zooming past an empty street. Quickly fishing out a high-powered monocular from his utility belt, Grant shut one eye and shoved the eye piece in front of the other, quickly adjusting the lens to reveal the R-Cycle quickly turning a corner and disappearing from view.

"Well, well… looks like one of the birds flew the coop," Grant muttered, pocketing the monocular.

The light-blue face mask was pulled over his head, and he quickly smoothed down the neck of the mask while adjusting the red eye-lenses. Giving a cursory blink, he adjusted the lenses a little more, and then tapped the side of the mask with a finger. Suddenly an array of flashing white lines and streams of words washed over his eyes, detailing an analysis of whatever lay within his line of sight.

Another tap presented the night-vision option, and he squinted momentarily to adjust himself with the overall green hue of his surroundings as he suddenly took off running. He sped up even as he ran down the incline of the roof, never stopping even as he leapt off of the roof and landed on a building close by. Cement practically loosened from the impact of his landing, but any shock that had shot up his knees was blissfully ignored. His running streak naturally sped up instead of slowed down as he scaled building after building with almost effortless leaps of either blind faith or sheer confidence. The luxury of a doubt was behind him as he immediately took a blind leapt down to the ground from a rather mid-sized building.

The Ravager, the merciless killer hired by whoever beckoned with the most cash, touched down on the city limits in a soft crouch, making little to no noise whatsoever. He straightened and took a cursory look around him, taking in the rather dismal park scenery until he caught sight of a bright red motorcycle heading for the exiting highway. Lips twisted in a leer underneath his mask, Ravager contemplated his next move against the lone Titan.

"Stay in the shadows, Slade," Ravager stated, his voice somewhat disembodied from within his mask. "Stay, while I go break your little toys. I'm sure you'll find something else to amuse you later on."

Something crunched as he stepped on it, and Ravager lifted his foot to reveal the front page of a discarded copy of the day's newspaper. On it was the image of Slade, the "S" symbol so meticulously emblazoned on his chest with the black-and-orange ensemble being displayed in full color. Ravager let out a somewhat derisive snort.

"Honestly though," he continued, toeing the piece of newspaper with his boot. "I was hoping you'd stay with the 'Deathstroke' identity, Dad."

Ravager took in a deep breath and started running off in the direction of the red R-Cycle, letting the newspaper fly away on its own accord.

The paper flittered and fluttered around in a leisurely arc before swooping in a loop and promptly being caught in mid-air by a gloved hand. The shadows of a nearby alleyway seemed to melt away into a tall, broad-shouldered figure dressed in dark colors. A smooth, presumably masked head appeared from within the shadows, where the figure's eyes suddenly opened. A sharp blue eye shone from the darkness of the alleyway.

"Play with my toys all you want, Grant," a deep, deceptively smooth voice murmured to the darkness. "But I'm afraid that it will be you who will be broken as a result of this, son."

_Crunch_

The shred of newspaper was practically buried into the asphalt by a steel-enforced sole as Slade gave a sharp about-turn to disappear back into the shadows.


End file.
